Posted!

Join the Conversation

Across America, silent vigils mark teen's death

Hundreds of protestors gathered and marched again in Ferguson, MO Thursday night. But this time it was primarily peaceful. The credit for the shift in atmosphere goes to the commander of the Missouri Highway Patrol who's now overseeing security.

In cities large and small, people across America came together to silently remember Michael Brown, a teen none knew in life but whose death Saturday sparked a wave of unrest in his Missouri hometown and raised questions about racial profiling and police militarization.

Organizers Yemisi Miller-Tonnet, left, and Jonathan Lykes take turns speaking to the crowd during a rally to protest the fatal shooting of Michael Brownat Meridian Hill Park, also known as Malcolm X Park, in Washington. (Photo: Alex Brandon, AP)

Rick Williams, brother of slain woodcarver John T. Williams, is hugged during a gathering Thursday in Seattle. The woodcarver was shot and killed by a Seattle police officer in 2010. (Photo: Joshua Trujillo, AP)

Like this topic? You may also like these photo galleries:

Brown, who was black, was shot dead by a police officer Saturday night in the St. Louis suburb of Ferguson. While local police have released few details about the circumstances of Brown's death, his body lay in the street for hours. His death has drawn increasing national attention, first from civil unrest by furious residents, and then an increasingly heavy-handed police presence fueled by heavy social media attention.

Kenny Wiley, a youth minister who helped organize a vigil in Denver said Brown's death is the most recent demonstration of what he called the "systemic inequality" facing young black men in America. Wiley, who is black, said the system feels stacked against some people who pay the price with their lives.

"It wasn't in our city, but this is our country, our world," said Wiley, 26. "We want to stand up and say enough is enough, and to mourn those who have lost their lives." Wiley led about 100 people through a vigil that included the out-loud listing of names of black men killed by police and chants of "hands up, don't shoot."

In Greenville, S.C., about 200 people, including the Rev. Jesse Jackson, gathered on a plaza in front of the Peace Center for the Performing Arts.

"This struggle has depth and breadth and history," Jackson, a Greenville native, told the crowd. "And if the impact of his death wakes you up, he's made a contribution."

Jackson recalled as a child the lynching of a black mentally retarded man in 1947 in nearby Pickens County and called the shooting death of Michael Brown "a state execution."

"If it's done by an official with a badge on and a gun, it is a state execution," he said.

Jackson said he was in town to visit his mother when he heard about the rally, organized by two young black men.

"This is a wake-up call," he said. "I find a certain fascination with watching these young men and women be born again.

"This is the day of your birth," he told Ricky Pulley, one of the organizers. "You were just now born again."

A large crowd listens during a vigil at Hart Plaza in downtown Detroit on Thursday Aug. 14, 2014 for Michael Brown who was shot by a police officer in Ferguson, Mo.(Photo: Ryan Garza, Detroit Free Press)

Eric Wood, a white 51-year-old business owner from Greenville, held up a sign that said "Remember!" and "Protect & Serve. No one is above the law."

"I'm a law-and-order guy," he said. "I believe in the police, but there are bad cops."

Ryan Thomas, a 31-year-old auto technician from Greenville, said he felt that if he didn't take a stand here, far from Ferguson, that something like what happened to Brown could happen in Greenville.

"It's a problem everywhere," he said. "It's not just one city, one state."

At Rutgers University in New Brunswick, N.J., Joann Mitchell, a 53-year-old mother of a young boy, was on the verge of tears imploring the crowd to do more than get angry.

"All this here," she said, gesturing to poster boards with the faces of some police shooting victims, "is because we didn't do nothing. You've got to stop. You've got to hold on to each other."

She went on, "Vote. Stop letting them do it to us. Go to school, get your education and stop this, because no one else can stop it."

In Indianapolis, Tiffany Pettiford brought her 8-year-old son, Joseph Duerson, to a rally in downtown's Monument Circle that drew about 100 people. As the mother of a young black boy, Pettiford said, she lives with worry for her son.

People gather for a vigil Thursday at Rutgers University in New Brunswick, N.J., Thursday, Aug. 14, 2014. Vigils are being held across the country in response to several days of protests in Ferguson, Mo., where 18-year-old Michael Brown was shot and killed by a police officer Saturday.(Photo: Dustin Racioppi, The Asbury Park (N.J.) Press)

"He could just be walking down the street in 10 years, minding his own business, matching the description of someone who did do something wrong, and all of a sudden it's 'Stop! Put your hands in the air!'," she said. "And with his autism, he might get scared and run."

In Burlington, Vt., Davaki Chayut said she felt "pretty frustrated and hopeless" over the militarization of police forces.

"I think it's important as a community to speak for those who are not being heard, to speak for those who are persecuted, and it's so complicated," Chayut said.

The vigil in Phoenix took place on a sultry evening at Eastlake Park, a longtime hub for civil rights rallies and African-American events. There was no visible police presence. Names of alleged brutality victims were recited aloud, followed by a moment of silence.

About 1,000 people march peacefully in New York City's Union Square, Thursday, Aug. 14, 2014.(Photo: Michael R. Sisak, AP)

Some speakers said they empathize with victims of civil rights violations elsewhere because of racial profiling by police in Arizona, including practices of the Maricopa County Sheriff's Office that have led to court-ordered reforms. Others described personal encounters with law enforcement.

George Vick, 34, said he lived in St. Louis County, Mo., before moving to Queen Creek, and had personal experience with officers there. "These people terrorize the neighborhood," he said. "This is a firsthand account. My little brother is there right now in the street protesting. Something has to change. ... Next, it could be your kid, your sister, your father, your brother."